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c Ike Maid of Pend d Oreille 


iSf n Indian Idyl 



BY 

Le Moqueur 



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Seattle, Wash. 

1910 


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COPYRIGHT, O. J. ROGNON, 1910 


* • 
• * ♦ 


CCI.A277353 























C Ihe, Maid of Pend d'Oreille 

By 

LeMoqueur 

( W'lth apologies to Killing ) 

N the mirrored Pend d’Oreille 
An Indian princess used to stray 
Every morning just at sunrise 
With her maidens blithe and gay. 

In the water went they bathing 
Till their bronze skins shone like gold 
In the mellow morning sunlight, 
Revealing forms of perfect mold. 

On the banks of Pend d’Oreille 
Sit these maidens half the day. 

Toying with their long black tresses. 
Donning all their rich array 
Of beads and feathers, blankets gay; 
Stood they there in proud display, 
Gazing in their river mirror. 

Clear-cut in the sun as day. 

i < 

• ' r 

On the mirrored Pend d’Oreille, 
Where speckled sunfish leap and play 
And the Indians, clad in buckskins. 

By the waters love to stray. 

And the wild deer seeks to slaken 
His hot thirst at close of day. 

And the eagle soars above them. 
Marking out a fawn for prey. 

From the bosom of the lake 
A boat creeps slowly, like a snake, 
Leaving wrought out far behind 
A silver ribbon in its wake. 

Suddenly o’er rapids swift 
Darting through the dashing spray. 
The boat leaps like a flying fish 
Down the canyoned Pend d’Oreille. 
























From the boat a Hudson trapper 
Leaps ashore on Pend d’Oreille. 

Frightened at this apparition. 

The red-skinned maidens ran away. 

All except the stately princess. 

Who stood in wonder at the way 
A white man spoke and looked and acted. 
This stranger from the Hudson Bay. 

“He is a god; I must obey,’’ 

Thought this maiden in dismay. 

Gazing at the pale-faced stranger. 

Not a word she dared to say. 

But the stranger gave her trinkets, 

Won her heart, though she knew not 
The meaning of the words he uttered. 

It seemed like some enchanted spot. 

Captive to the maiden’s beauty. 

He forgot his tradesman’s duty; 

Taught her words in his own language. 
Making love in white man’s way. 

Sang he many lilting lovesongs— 

Songs whose meaning would convey 
All his love and admiration 
For this maid of Pend d’Oreille. 

On a sunny autumn day, 

With breezes balmy as in May, 

Left without a word of warning. 

This trapper from the Hudson Bay. 

When the maiden came at evening, 

’Neath the pale moon’s silvery ray. 

She sought in vain her Northern lover, 
Down the mirrored Pend d’Oreille. 























*** ** •< 










COPYRIGHT, O. J. ROGNON, 1910 




















On the banks of Pend d’Oreille 
Stood this princess day by day. 

Gazing down the crystal river 
For her lord from Hudson Bay. 

Stood alone and sadly sighing, 

“Skookum tilicum gone away,” 

And the canyon caught the echo, 

Down the mirrored Pend d’Oreille. 

‘‘Come you back, you Hudson trapper. 
Come you back to Pend d’Oreille, 

To the mirrored Pend d’Oreille, 

Where the shifting shadows play, 

And trees and mountains stand reflected 
In the water clear as day. 

And the wild deer loves to wander 
Down the banks of Pend d’Oreille.” 

But no more came he to say 
Love words by the Pend d’Oreille. 

Worn to wanness with long watching, 
Broken-hearted at his stay, 

Plunged she headlong in the canyon 
Where the swirling waters play. 

‘‘Great Spirit took her,” said the Indians, 
As they searched down Pend d’Oreille. 

On the banks of Pend d’Oreille, 

Where the Indians love to stray; 

And at nightfall in the shadows 
They to the Great Spirit pray. 

And the pine and fir and tamarack, 
Tinged with moonlight, all convey 
A subtle charm and mystic grandeur 
To the mirrored Pend d’Oreille. 








Down the placid Pend d’Oreille 
Float the swans at close of day. 

Like a snowdrift on the river. 

In slow, mournful cadence chant they 
Requiems for the soul departed. 

Waiting for its final flight 

To the realms of the Great Spirit, 

Akumkiniku-i-hight. 

From the mirrored Pend d’Oreille 
Where the shifting shadows play, 

Can’t you hear strange voices calling? 
Calling from the Pend d’Oreille? 

From the river to the bay. 

On a sunlit summer day. 

Where the wild deer dash like thunder 
Down the mirrored Pend d’Oreille? 











tff Q 


‘UIQ 




PRINTED BY THE IVY PRESS, SEATTLE 
CUTS BY MARING A B L A K E , S E A T T L E 
















































